


relax

by khayr



Category: Dredd (2012)
Genre: F/M, Requests, headcanon-inspired, otp: you look ready
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khayr/pseuds/khayr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anderson hated the locker rooms. In fact, she avoided them at all costs on most days. The usual crush of too many high-strung Judges overwhelmed her, emotions rampant despite cool expressions. It was only necessity that had brought her in today; Dredd had called in a ten-twenty-four on his last case of the day and skipped out on the medical ward (totally typical), but when Anderson had shown up to check on him at his apartment he wasn’t home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	relax

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday request for someone on tumblr! Inspired by one of their headcanons.

Anderson hated the locker rooms. In fact, she avoided them at all costs on most days. The usual crush of too many high-strung Judges overwhelmed her, emotions rampant despite cool expressions. It was only necessity that had brought her in today; Dredd had called in a ten-twenty-four on his last case of the day and skipped out on the medical ward (totally typical), but when Anderson had shown up to check on him at his apartment he wasn’t home.   
  
This was the  _last_  place she wanted to check, but it was the only other place he could be.  She cast out her mind to check who was inside before she opened the door. It was devoid of activity, a rather startling revelation until Anderson detected a familiar presence. The door opened against her palm and for the first time that she could ever remember the locker room was empty. Judging by the sound of running water from the showers and the string of curses she heard she could almost guess why; an angry Dredd was the last thing that anyone wanted to cross.  
  
Anderson didn’t care, though.  
  
Her footsteps echoed as she crossed the room, winding past rows of lockers and benches until she had reached the showers at the end. She hesitated at the entrance, trying to decide if calling out to him or poking at his mind was a better way to announce her presence (sneaking up on him seemed entirely a poor decision).  
  
“Dredd,” she finally called, voice quieter than she had really meant it to be. She waited a moment, and although his cursing had stopped he made no other reply. “ _Dredd_.”  
  
“I heard you the first time.” Anderson felt her shoulders slump when he spoke, releasing a tension she hadn’t realized she carried. He was totally fine, she chastised herself, did she really think he’d be anything but? He could handle himself.  
  
“Just… checking.” Her fingers skimmed the wall, mind reaching out to get a sense of him. She felt pain and frustration, and a thin layer of something close to calm that seemed to smooth everything over as he registered her voice. A silence stretched between them almost as thick as the steam that lingered in the air. The running water was the only sound in the room, and Anderson shifted uncertainly from foot to foot. “Since you’re all right I’ll just-“  
  
“Anderson,” he cut in, “Come here.” His tone was flat, but she felt her heart leap into her throat. What was he playing at? She obeyed, hesitating before finally poking her head just inside. He was leaned into the wall, facing away from her, and from the way he was slumped in on himself it was clear he was in pain. It was unlike him to show weakness. He must have been here for the longer-lasting hot water compared to his apartment, she realized; he was wearing a pair of running shorts and just letting the water run off his back.  
  
“What’s up?” she murmured, and although she  _wished_  that he would just turn around she knew he wouldn’t. It was enough that he had even called her over even given their comfortable partnership.   
  
“Took a hit,” he grunted quietly, “I can’t get it sealed and cleaned.” He shifted himself and turned just a bit, and Anderson caught sight of some kind of wound along his back  _just_  in that spot that was difficult to reach. She put the pieces together of what she had felt in his mind; he had skipped out on the med ward with the intention of just doing it himself but had been unable to reach.   
  
“They have an infirmary for that.” she cut in. He snorted and ran his hands through his hair, dancing around what he had been trying to ask. She waited a moment or two, then rolled her eyes. “Dredd, you should just-”  
  
“Would you do it?” He grumbled the question so quietly she almost missed it under the drone of the running water. Anderson bit back the desire to tease him for it; she was sure it was already hard enough for him to ask for her help.   
  
“Give me a minute, I’m not coming in there in my gear.” She slipped out of the room and wound back around to her assigned locker to dig out a pair of shorts. After stripping out of her street gear down to her tank she grabbed her med kit and made her way back over. She crinkled her face at the cold tile against her feet, but rapped her knuckles to the wall to let Dredd know she had returned. He let out a soft  _hmm_  in response.   
  
“Think you’re up to it, rookie?” His mind felt much calmer at her return, and his tone was just about the closest thing to a joke that she could get out of him. When he was feeling particularly humorous he dragged out her old rank as a nickname; he already knew she could handle whatever got thrown her way. Anderson popped open her kit and grabbed what she needed before stepping inside with him. She could see the hard angle of his jaw from the way he was standing, but the rest of his face was out of view. Typical. She felt him tense as she began work on the wound, fingers delicately cleaning what was left of blood and dirt. The water ran over what she was doing as he shifted, leaving streaks of red down his back.  
  
“You have to sit still,” she muttered, fully immersed in what she was doing, “I can’t put the foam on it if you’re going to keep getting water all over.” He grumbled something at her, but leaned back and allowed her to smear the medical sealant across the wound. It seemed to be doing its job, and while it was setting Anderson allowed her fingers to trail across the skin of his back. The action seemed to relax him. After a moment of experimentation she pressed with a bit more force, kneading against knotted tissue in a delicate massage.  
  
“That’s nice.” His voice rumbled low in his chest, and Anderson felt a small smile curl at the corner of her mouth. Months of tension were coiled in his muscles. She took the moment to continue her work, hands smoothing over his shoulders, along his neck, and back down his spine. If she focused enough she could swear he was leaning into her touch.  
  
“What happened today?” she asked quietly. She wasn’t expecting an elaborate answer. His shoulders shrugged under her hands, and a soft groan came from the back of his throat a she dug particularly deep.  
  
“Drug bust.” She caught what she could see of his jaw twitch and knew he had cracked a tiny smile. Her fingers worked back towards his neck, sliding up into his hair. For a moment he seemed like he was ready to pull away (the foam had finished sealing minutes ago), but Anderson dug in to massage his scalp and he practically melted against her touch. His mind relaxed with him; if she had wanted to she could have read him freely. She refrained, of course. Her restraint with her abilities was something that especially applied to her partner.   
  
“How did you clear out the entire locker room?” she murmured after another minute or so, “Not even the cadets are out there.” A low rumble of amusement came from Dredd as he tipped his head back into her hands.  
  
“Not telling.” She rolled her eyes at him. Typical. Undoubtedly it was some terrible threat he’d laid down that no one dared discover if it was legitimate. Finally she slipped her fingers from his hair with some reluctance, earning a disappointed mumble from him. Gingerly she tested the sealant along his wound. It held well. Although she certainly wanted to spend longer with him, she had her own reports to write.   
  
“Take it easy, Dredd.” She patted his shoulder and he grunted in response.   
  
As she stepped out of the shower she caught movement from the main area. A pair of cadets stood frozen in place, gear in their hands and staring directly at her. Anderson glanced between the two of them, back to where Dredd seemed to be blithely ignoring what was transpiring outside, and then back to the fledgling Judges staring at her. The desire to peek into their heads and see what they assumed was going on was tempting, but instead she marched over to them and mustered as much Dredd-like force as she could manage.  
  
“Problem, rookies?” She was shorter than both of them but they almost cowed, muttering ‘no sir’ and scattering back out of the room. Anderson let out a slow breath, shaking her head. That was one way to start rumors, that was for certain. Next time she’d have to insist on working on him in one of their apartments and  _not_  the public locker room.  
  
She was just pulling her boots back on when footfalls came in her direction. Dredd approached, back in his gear. He folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her.   
  
“Let’s grab something to eat,” he started, frowning at the amused look Anderson shot him, “We’ve got reports to write.” She finished lacing her boots, grabbed her helmet off the bench and trailed after him. If he stayed in a good mood she was sure she’d get her hands on him again… and she couldn’t say that the thought wasn’t enticing. 


End file.
